Coming Down
by Scarlet-Passion
Summary: A year has passed since Castiel proclaimed himself the New God-and he proved it. But, when someone who is naturally more powerful than him tears all of those souls out of him, the sanctuary of the Winchesters' presence is all he has left.
1. Chapter 1

A year has passed since the moment Cas proclaimed that he is the New God. A "better God" who would destroy you in your spot if you did not profess your undying love to him.

But Cas failed to take into account that the power he was housing was not permanent. Even something as small as making Raphael explode used up some of his power—even if it was a small amount. Castiel started performing acts that are meant for God alone.

However, he was not omnipresent. He had no omniscience. He was not omnipotent—even though he was close. And most of all, he was not omnibenevolent. In his time of power, he showed more flaws in his character than he ever did as an angel. He made choices that make soulless Sam pale in comparison.

The angels followed without question. The demons, under Crowley's command, remained in hiding. The human race could not hide, though. But they did not bow down to Castiel, either. In fact, only a few hundred thousand knew of Cas' existence. But not a single human bowed down to him. The Winchesters made sure of that.

Slowly, but surely, Castiel started using up his power. He never felt a single change—his brain was too corrupted with power to notice anything else. He was a cruel god. At first, after they escaped (don't be shocked; they're the guys who saved the world), Sam, Dean, and Bobby tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. But the things Cas started doing were even more shocking than Sam's memories.

By the time the year was out, as far as Bobby and the Winchesters were concerned, Cas was even worse than Lucifer. After all, he got what Lucifer wanted in the first place: God's job.


	2. Chapter 2

For God's job to be taken is a concept that not even Dean Winchester can wrap his head around easily. For angels to accept that Cas is their God is another matter all together. It's a strange idea that should never come to pass.

And God knows that.

No one knows where the Big Guy is, but he knows where everyone else is. He knows what _everyone_ is doing, even if you are monster or demon. The one being that has caught his most attention is his quiet naïve son, Castiel. Cas always obeyed, always fell in line with what God wanted. He followed the script to the very letter.

That's why when Cas sided with the Winchesters—and in a broader sense, the human race—God was extremely proud. When he watched Cas throw the flaming Molotov cocktail of holy oil at Michael, slowing down the fight for maybe a minute or two, he recognized that Castiel, in that moment, was the only angel that had grasped the idea of freedom. He saw that Cas wanted it for _everyone_.

Then Lucifer killed his little brother, ripping apart his body with only a wave of his hand. But God saved him. He saved his son, because he wanted his son to teach his beliefs to all of God's other children. He wanted them to live like the humans—free to make a choice without someone else telling them what to do or how to do it.

God watched Cas return to heaven, standing up to Raphael, telling his older brother that the Apocalypse should _not_ happen. He also watched yet another archangel hurt Castiel, making him bleed in the home that God created to be a realm of _only_ peace and love.

He watched Cas make the deal with Crowley. He watched Cas lie straight to the faces of his closest friends, through voice _and_ action. He watched it all. And even as all-knowing as he is, the actions of Cas actually scared God. He did not want to watch the _only_ angel that _ever_ turned away from the original script to take his free will and abuse it.

So, when Cas finally started praying to his father, God listened more intently than he had to anyone in a very long time. He listened to Cas confess everything he had done in the past two years, even if he had seen it all. He could hear the pain in Cas' voice as he recalled being trapped by the Winchesters and Bobby with holy oil and having to look at his friends and tell them the truth: he was working with the King of Hell to open purgatory.

Then God heard the most powerful words of all come out of Castiel's mouth; powerful because they brought relief to God:

"I'm asking you, Father, one last time. Am I doing the right thing? Am I on the right path? You have to tell me, you have to give me a sign. Give me a sign. Because if you don't, I'm gonna do whatever I must."

Cas _was _uncertain about the path he was walking. However, as relieving as this shred of news was, everything else about Castiel brought pain to God's heart.

Castiel looked as if he was struggling. His voice mirrored his distress. He hated making the Winchesters distrust him. He hated working with Crowley. That's why he was praying to God—he needed to know what to do next.

And God wanted to help. He wanted to walk straight up to his son and tell him what to do. But Cas was not like any other angel—he embraced free will and understood it fully. Cas _had_ free will. God could not touch that.

So he did what Cas did with the Winchesters—he came to his son, but remained invisible, choosing instead to just watch him. God could see the dread is Cas' face when he heard no answer. He watched his son—still so innocent and naïve—hang his head in surrender.

He watched his son visit Crowley almost as much as he visited Dean. And he watched when Castiel didn't visit either and instead appeared outside the house of the Novak Family—the family of Castiel's vessel. He would slump against the wall and take just one moment to let the reality of the situation hit him full force. He would stare off into the night and close his eyes, letting the tears fall. Letting himself feel human for only a moment.

He watched his son take in all the power of the souls. He watched Castiel kill Raphael, something that brought no joy to God. He watched Cas proclaim himself as "Your New God. A better one."

Still, God did not interfere. He didn't want his old job. He wanted to stay in retirement. He told himself this. But he kept watching Castiel. He watched as the Winchesters barely escaped him with their lives. He watched them become fugitives from the wrath of heaven.

And he watched all the horrible things Cas did. For a year, God let it all happen. He didn't do a damn thing.

And then Cas said he would do the one thing that is forbidden. It doesn't matter if you obey God or not. Even Lucifer, the biggest rebel of them all, knew that this is what can NEVER be changed.

Castiel wanted to remove free will from the entire universe.


	3. Chapter 3

_Please Review!_

Castiel's desire was a horrifying idea. If Cas took away free will, a vital part of the universe would be torn away. The basic elements that make up the universe depend on one another, and if one is torn away, everything else comes crashing down.

God knew this and he knew he had no choice.

So he walked back into the ring. He bid farewell to his private island in the Caribbean, turned his meatsuit (that he made himself) into ash, and floated back up to Heaven.

When he walked through the door, no one noticed him. They were all rushing around, performing acts for their god, Castiel. God didn't expect them to notice him, though. All of the ones who had seen his face were either dead or trapped in the cage. To the rest of Heaven, he was just another soul arriving to be guided to his place in Heaven.

However, after he took care of Castiel, he would have to make himself known. He had to take control over Heaven once more. As God walked farther into his home, the idea of seizing control did not slow him. He had thought long and hard about this.

And he just couldn't watch his universe fall.

He walked straight through at least a thousand humans' Heavens until he came to the garden. He did not have to knock on the door. Joshua—the only child who he had stayed in contact with—knew he was coming. Joshua opened the door for God, but instead of bowing down to him, he tackled him with a warm hug. "I missed you, Father," he whispered.

God gave him a quick embrace and then waved his hand, transporting Joshua to Earth for his protection. He did not have to be here for this.

God had not taken three steps in when he noticed something was wrong. Unlike humans who came here, God could see millions of variations of the garden. At that moment, God saw it in its true form—the throne room.

And it was changed.

It no longer represented the unity God preached for since the beginning of creation. All it did was focus on one thing: the New God. There was one single chair raised up at least fifty feet and a hundred rows of pews all faced the main throne. God just looked forward down the center aisle with expectancy… and sadness. Castiel's ego mad Lucifer's look tame.

"I knew you were coming," a voice echoed around the hall. God instantly recognized it as Cas. "You are an idiot for coming."

"And you are a coward if you must hide yourself to merely speak to your father," God replied.

A chuckle echoed, "You are right, of course."

A moment later, Castiel appeared on the throne. He looked down at his father, smirking, "You are not much different from how I pictured you."

"That's because this is the visage you are meant to see me in," God replied. It was not a lie when Anna told Dean that four angels had seen God's face (Joshua had kept his gaze away from God—out of respect—every time he saw him). He looked different to each of them.

And now Castiel would be the fifth to see God.

"I would find that disappointing, but I don't. You know why?" Castiel asked, his smirk reflecting that of an evil dictator.

God did not answer.

"It's because I am God now!" he shouted, triumph heavy in his voice. "And everyone must bow down to me. Everyone must obey me."

God remained silent.

"Everyone!" he shouted, standing up. He lifted his arm, pointing straight at God, "Including you." And then Castiel revealed a pot from behind his back. It was a simple, golden urn—not anything special. But it was special. If Castiel opened it, the spirit of free will that is ingrained into the makeup of the universe would've been torn out, binding everyone's spirit to Castiel. After all, he was the one holding the jar.

God knew Castiel was going to reveal it. God made one blink of his eye and the urn vanished from Castiel's hand. Castiel made one blink and his father was less than inch from his face.

Castiel saw no anger in God's eyes. He saw no disappointment.

He saw only sadness.

Then God launched his hand into Castiel's solar plexus as Castiel did to Sam almost two years ago. Then a blood-curdling scream erupted, echoing through every inch of Heaven. It even touched the ears of the human souls. It was a sound that was never meant to be in Heaven.

But Castiel screamed. He screamed because the pain he felt made searching for Sam's soul look like sleeping. Millions upon millions of souls flowed out of Castiel, into the being of God. If any human were to feel the pain, they would have died long ago.

Castiel buckled over onto his fathers arm. God propped him up and said, "Look at me, Castiel."

Cas didn't.

"Look. At. Me." God repeated. His voice was firm, like a human mother disciplining her child.

Castiel somehow summoned the strength to lift his head. He didn't look at his father's eyes, though. Instead, he stared at God's nose.

God reached for Castiel's chin and lifted his face up. Cas had no choice now. He looked straight into his father's eyes.

And then the pain stopped. God pulled out his hand and Castiel fell forward, landing at the feet of his father. God crouched down so that he was eye-level with Castiel. He saw his son hang his head, looking at his hands as he did when he received no answer to his prayers. But this time, he was not looking down in uncertainty.

For now, all Cas felt was exhaustion.

God put his hand on his son's head. "You will be safe, my son."

Castiel didn't answer. He only closed his eyes to his father's touch.

"You will not see me for a while," God said. "Just know that what comes next is to help you."

There was only silence.

God leaned forward and whispered something in Castiel's ear. Then he backed away and said "Goodbye, my son." He brought his hand to the ground.

Then Castiel vanished, pulled to the earth by the power of his father.


	4. Chapter 4

_From here on out, it's written in the present. Please R&R!_

Castiel is still on the ground, but judging by the harshness of the ground beneath him, he can tell that he isn't in Heaven anymore. The ground is rough with ridges digging into his leg. It… feels like Bobby's basement.

Cas blinks a few times, trying to fight off the drooping of his eyelids. He can't sleep until he knows where he is. It can't be Bobby's basement—he obliterated that place six months ago.

But it could be the safe house Bobby, Sam, and Dean are hiding out in.

Only yesterday, Cas was looking for this place to kill them. Now, all he wanted was the safety of their presence… his friends…

Cas stands up as if he is lifting five-hundred-pound weights. He lurches his way through the dark, stumbling into walls once in a while. Then he steps into a room with a carpet. There is a bright light shining from his right and for a moment, he is blinded. Then a strong force slams into him, pinning him to the wall.

"Make one move and I'll kill you," a rough, low voice warns. Castiel immediately recognizes it as Dean. He senses a second later that Dean is raising his fist to punch him.

He looks up, focusing through his blurry vision. Dean stops mid-swing when he sees Castiel's face.

Cas looks as tired as he feels. There are heavy bruises under his eyes, making his blue eyes stand out harshly. The lines in his face tell his story: the angel who took in enough power to be God, but not enough to beat the real thing.

Somehow, Dean can read this in Cas even though he hasn't said a thing.

Cas hears Sam from behind Dean, demanding why his older brother won't give the son-of-a-bitch what he deserves. Cas knows Bobby is here as well, but he doesn't hear the old drunk's voice.

Dean doesn't answer his brother because he doesn't have an answer. The only thing he can do is stare at his best friend as he leans against Dean's grasp, slowly succumbing to his exhaustion. Without really knowing why, Dean lets go of Cas, letting the angel collapse to the ground. Cas doesn't feel the slam of the impact though. He's out before his ass hits the floor.

_So I need your opinions on something. There are two ways this story can go for me and I need to know something: Would you mind if I added some slash (not Wincest)?_


	5. Chapter 5

_Thanks for all the input!_

Castiel is no longer on the floor. He whips around, disoriented by the absolute darkness surrounding him. He can't see a thing. He tries to access the power of the souls, but he feels no rush of power. He feels… weak.

"What's going on?" he demands. "Where am I?"

"Your soul," a voice echoes.

Castiel looks up now. "Who are you?"

"You know who I am, Castiel," the voice replies. "You saw me less than an hour ago."

It clicks in Cas' head immediately. "God," he whispers. Some ancient instinct overtakes Castiel and he gets down on one knee, bowing down to his god.

However, another force, stronger than Castiel's will, forces him back up to standing position. "That is not what I want from you, Castiel."

"I don't know why I did it," Cas replies honestly. He is not aware that in the presence of God, angels have no choice but to bow down. But then again, God is trying to change that. "What do you mean this is my soul?"

"We are inside your soul, my son," God replies. "And right now, it's riddled with sin."

Castiel looks around again, "That's why it's dark."

"Yes," God confirms.

Cas looks back up, "But how? I cannot be held responsible for the choices I made!" he replies, his voice rough with confusion.

"Yes you can," God replies.

"You're wrong," Castiel retorts.

"No I am not, Castiel," God replies calmly. "You do not understand now, but you will."

Castiel opens his mouth, but God speaks before Cas can utter a sound.

"The coming months will be hard for you Castiel," God continues. "But I want you to know that whenever you feel at a loss, you can call to me for advice."

It takes all of Cas' willpower not to laugh out loud. "Where were you when I _really_ needed you?" Castiel demands, glaring straight up towards the source of God's voice.

God doesn't give a direct answer. He only says, "I am here for you now."

Castiel can't say anything else. He only hopes that his anger is strong enough to show God how much suffering his absence caused.

"I will see you soon, my son" God says. And then he leaves. Castiel knows this because the presence of the darkness suddenly become extremely heavy. Then it consumes Castiel before he has a chance to move.


	6. Chapter 6

Cas snaps awake, inhaling violently. He heaves fiercely for a few seconds before he realizes he's awake. The moment he looks up, he feels something cold splash across his face. Less than a second later, the liquid on his face burns. The scalding pain makes his eyes water and he has to look down again.

He tries to move his arms, then his legs. When he can't, he realizes that he is restrained to a chair. He tries to snap the restraints first with the power of the souls, then with his angelic power, but neither works for him.

"Look up at me," a voice demands. The first thing he registers is that it's not Dean's voice, but Sam's. The second thing he realizes is that Sam is angry.

Castiel looks up, staring through his blurry vision.

"How did you find us?" Sam demands.

Castiel doesn't answer. He doesn't know the answer himself.

Sam stands up and pushes back Castiel's head. He pours the scalding liquid down Castiel's shirt, right down his chest. The burn of it makes Cas groan loudly.

"What is that?" Castiel demands.

"It's holy oil," another voice replies. It's Bobby's voice. "Now answer him." His voice, though calmer, is as cold as Sam's. Maybe even colder.

Cas remains silent.

"All right, then," Sam says. He backs up and grabs a chair. He sits with the back of the chair facing Cas. "Then tell me how all those souls just got torn out of you."

Castiel knows the answer to this one. This time he opens his mouth, but no sounds comes out. Instead, he leans forward, heaving out air since he hasn't eaten any food. The stress of releasing the souls has not left him.

Sam is confused for only a second before he shoves his chair away. He gets down on one knee and pulls Castiel's head up by his hair. He catches Castiel's eyes and says to him, "Would you like me to remind you of what you did?"

Castiel looks at Sam, but no reply comes out. He's absolutely certain of all the things he did. But… that's not why he won't answer. Truthfully, Castiel isn't sure he wants to see the damage he caused.

"No?" Sam asks, his voice mockingly high. "Well, too bad." Sam lets go of Cas' hair. He undoes the restraints and pulls Cas roughly to his feet. He then points a gun at Cas' back. "The bullets in here are strung with holy oil," Sam warns. "Make any chance to escape and I'll fry your celestial ass before you reach the ceiling."

Castiel knows Sam is telling the truth. He looks up in front of him and standing there is Dean. He's leaning against the wall, staring straight at Cas. But he doesn't move. He doesn't say a thing. Cas and Dean just stand there for, staring at each other. Cas can see in Dean a preview of the massive guilt he's about to feel and Dean knows it. That's why he keeps looking at Cas: because he is praying as hard as he would for Sam and Bobby that Cas is no longer the enemy.

Sam slams the barrel of his gun into Cas' spine. Bobby opens the door of the room they are in (that is oddly similar to Bobby's basement) and Sam pushes Cas with his gun out the door and down a dark hallway. After a few turns, they come to a dark stairwell. Cas stumbles his way up the stairs, as he is disoriented by the lethal gun stabbing into his back.

Then they reach a dead end. It's a door and Sam commands that Cas to open it. Cas reaches in the dark for the doorknob and he grips it. But he doesn't turn it. He freezes in his spot for a single moment because his fear stops him. He doesn't want to see what's behind the door.

"Open it," Sam commands. He slams his guns into Castiel's spine harder than before. Castiel has no choice. Against all his instincts, he turns the knob and opens the door. As it opens, he feels a rush of clean, salty air hit his face. He breathes it in, welcoming the freshness. "Get out there," Sam commands. He pushes Cas out with the gun. Sam follows him out, followed by Bobby, and Dean is the last to exit, shutting the door softly behind him. "Look at it," Sam commands firmly.

Cas looks out in front of him. He sees the ocean. He looks out, squinting to see if anything else is out there. "What? It's the ocean."

"That's because we're in the middle of the ocean, smartass!" Sam snaps. "In your petty crusade to gain everyone's love, you drowned three-quarters of North America."

Cas' breathing stops for a second. It takes him a few moments to get what Sam is saying before he asks, "What?"

"Yeah. Right now, your standing on top of a safe house stationed on top of the peak of the Appalachian Mountains," Sam takes away the gun so he can get closer to Cas and whisper in his ear, "And the peak of the Appalachians is under water."

Cas closes his eyes at Sam's words. He feels the tip of the gun against his back once more. Sam slams it into his back again, "Now get down on your knees and look at what you did."

Cas obeys automatically. He remembers giving the order. At the time it seemed like a realistic tactic. He had to win the loyalty of all creation. But… "It's useless when they're all dead," he whispers.

None of the others hears him. Sam says, "Three-hundred million people. You killed them all off as if they were flies."

The number burns worse than the oil. Cas hadn't meant for this. He had wanted to _stop_ the apocalypse. Not… start it… Castiel looks out at the water again. He breathes in once more, but this time, he doesn't smell salt and cleanliness. He smells the rusty scent of blood and the stench of mountains of rotting bodies. They mingle with the crisp air, making it impossible to breathe. It's suffocating.

Castiel closes his eyes. He can feel nothing but absolute, unadulterated disgust.

Castiel sneers, "The will of the souls… they're power is evil."

"This wasn't the souls, Cas" Dean says. Cas turns his head to his friend's voice. "They may have scrambled with your brain, but this was all you." Dean's face holds no room for compromise. He is sure of his words.

"I don't believe you," Castiel replies. "I wouldn't have done this if I wasn't taken over by the souls."

"It doesn't matter," Sam replies severely. "It was still your mouth doing the commanding."

"Did you have any control over your actions when you had no soul?" Castiel demands.

Sam is silent for a moment. Then he replies, "It was still my hand on the gun."

"You had no soul," Castiel retorts. He turns around, simultaneously knocking the rifle from Sam's hand. He looks straight at his friend, "And I was possessed by the power of millions of souls."

Something hard hits the back of Castiel's head, and with all his angelic power, he is still weak from the loss of the power of the souls. He immediately collapses to the ground. Dean stares at Castiel, Sam's rifle tight in his hands. The butt of the gun is facing forward, obviously being the part that knocked Castiel out.

"No difference, Cas," he says calmly. He lowers his arms so that he is holding the gun by his side. "No difference."


	7. Chapter 7

_One note: Please, guys, don't read this as if every deep interaction between Dean and Cas is slash. It __**might**__ go that way. It might __**not**__. I'm not even saying you __**don't**__ have to imagine that, because you can. But people who don't want slash, please don't be put off by anything. Just enjoy! And please review! _

The hide out Sam, Dean, and Bobby are stationed in happens to be one of Dr. Visyak's alternative safe houses. In the time of "The Great Flood: Part 2", they had to get to higher ground. Luckily, they had good contacts on the other side.

Now here they are, three months later, in this house with three stories going into the ground and iron lining in the walls. Castiel lies in the prison cell set up to be exactly the same as Bobby's supernatural panic room.

Dean stands outside it, staring at the steel door. The moment reminds him too much of when they had to lock up Sam four years ago. The stress level is the same. The emotions are the same.

But the circumstances aren't even comparable.

Dean lets out a heavy sigh and rubs the bridge of his nose. "Why am I here?" he asks himself.

"Good question," his brother replies.

Dean looks up as Sam walks out of the darkness of the hall. "Why are you here, Dean?"

Dean doesn't answer.

"In fact, why isn't he dead right now?" Sam demands. "We have the holy oil _and_ the sword."

Dean continues to stare at the door.

"Dean—" Sam starts.

"We have to give him a chance, Sam," Dean replies. He looks at his brother, "He would give you one."

"I didn't flood the continent!" Sam retorts loudly. "I didn't kill everyone with one word, Dean!"

"He wasn't in his right mind," Dean replies, knowing full well that those words don't matter.

Sam knows those words are empty as well. "Why are you defending him?" Sam demands, "After everything he did to you!" He points his hand at his brother in frustration.

Dean shoots him a warning glance, "Don't go there, Sam."

Sam, for a moment, looks like he is going to back off. Then he opens his mouth, "Lisa and Ben, Dean."

Dean steps out, clenching and unclenching his fists by his sides, "Shut up, Sam."

"He slaughtered them in the flood!" Sam retorts, his voice rising. He doesn't have a chance to say anything else; Dean slams his fist straight into Sam's nose. Sam gets knocked backwards onto the hard, concrete floor. Dean storms down the hall before Sam even gets a chance to look up.

Castiel stares at the blood in the jar. Virgin and monster. All this struggle and now the moment has come. The moment that counts.

Cas hears the flutter of wings and then Balthazar's voice, "You rang, Cas?"

Cas hesitates for a second. It's not long and not even Balthazar notices it. But it's long enough to register in Cas' mind. Then he replies, with a practiced poker face, "Yeah, we have a problem. Dean Winchester is on his way here."

"Really?" Balthazar asks, "How did he even know where we were?" He sounds so convincing. But Cas has known his friend for a very long time. He can sense the false surprise in his tone.

"Apparently," Castiel says as he places the jar of blood on the table, "We have a Judas in our midst."

"Oh," Balthazar chuckles. "Holy Hell." Castiel can hear Balthazar's nervousness. He is usually better a better actor. "Who is it? It's that bloody little cherub, isn't it?" Balthazar smirks. He's trying too hard to be convincing.

"I don't know," Cas replies. "But I-I need you to find out."

"Of course," Balthazar replies nervously. "Right away, right away. But, uh, what did you want me to do about Dean?" he asks. He is keeping up the act very well.

"Nothing," Cas replies, turning away. "I'll handle him myself." The words feel like a death sentence.

"Castiel?" Balthazar asks. "Are you alright?" He sounds almost true in his concern for Cas. The fact that it's an act hurts Castiel more than he would like to admit.

Cas knows it's a lie. But, right now, is probably the hardest time in his entire existence. So, for a moment, he lets himself believe that Balthazar actually cares, "First Sam and Dean and now this." His eyes start to water just a little bit, "I'm doing my best in impossible circumstances."

He doesn't know that just behind him, Balthazar feels a kick of guilt that he brushes off with a slight movement of his jaw.

"My friends, they… abandon me…" Admitting it out loud hurts Cas. He stares at the ground, still trying to cling to some shred of denial. "And plot against me… it's difficult to understand." No one could understand… except the Winchesters.

"Well you've always got little old me," Balthazar replies. Those words… if Cas didn't know better, they would be of some comfort. But they are only a lie and that angers Castiel. It angers him enough to snap him out of his moment of self-pity.

He appears behind Balthazar and stabs his sword into his friend's back. "Yes," Castiel replies bitterly, "I'll always have you."

"Cas…" Balthazar manages. He wants to say more. He wants to explain. But his life leaves him before he can utter another word. He collapses to the ground and even though Castiel is sure he is in the right, he looks down at his friend, right into the glow as Balthazar's being disappears in a flash.

But the flash doesn't fade. It freezes mid-shine, just like the rest of Castiel's surroundings. He looks around, but it seems as if time has slowed. He looks behind him and then looks forward again.

Standing there, illuminated by the glow, is a figure. There are no features on the figure. In fact, it can only be described a white-skin-colored blob in the silhouette of a man. There's nothing shocking about it.

But Castiel can't take his eyes off it. All he can do is stare.

Cas wakes with a start. He takes a moment to breathe before he collapses back onto the rock-hard cot. He covers his face with his hands. That dream was just… odd.

He lets out a heavy sigh before sitting up. He positions himself so he is sitting on the side of the bed. He leans into his hands as he takes a moment to think something else over: the murder of Balthazar.

The scene from the dream flashes through his mind again and the only thing he can do is flinch. He can still hear Balthazar's voice as his life left his body, _"Cas…"_

It echoes in his mind, as well as the image of the featureless figure.

Maybe that figure was a symbol of his guilt. Who knows. All Cas knows is that he can't use the souls as an excuse for this event. Killing Balthazar is like killing Sam. It shouldn't have happened _at all_.

What's done is done, Castiel tells himself. Once an angel is killed, they're _gone_.

That is very true. But it brings no comfort to Castiel because he feels guilty. He feels guilty for killing Balthazar, for killing his friend. He can't deny that.

And no matter how many angles he takes to convince himself that at the time, it _had_ to happen, he knows it's a lie. It's all a lie.

And that scares Cas shitless.


	8. Chapter 8

_Please review!_

There isn't much Castiel can do in this room. It's angel-proofed to the max and as dark as the pit. Because of this, he spends most of his time staring at the ceiling. He hasn't spoken to any of his captors, even though Dean stands outside his door all the time.

Of course, Castiel doesn't know that.

He knows Sam wants him dead. He knows Bobby is willing to slit his throat if he so much as looked at them funny. It's probably best that Castiel stay in his prison.

The other thing he does is sleep. Before he had taken in the souls, he had never had to sleep. But, for some reason, he finds himself sleeping a lot now. Of course, the reason is obvious—he's exhausted from all the souls being removed.

Even now, after a week of sleep, he still isn't close to recovered.

He's just nodding off again when there is a loud, metallic bang. He opens his eyes and a bright light overhead turns on, illuminating the sigils painted on the walls. Castiel looks to the door to see Bobby's hand on the light switch. He is looking straight at Cas, his eyes forewarning. Then he walks into the room with Sam and Dean following closely behind him.

Cas expects Sam to grab the chair and start on his "tough ass torture" act again, but Sam doesn't even step forward. Instead, Dean steps forward, looking straight at Castiel. "Cas," he says. His eyes are careful, scanning over the angel with a thoughtful look, "Who took the souls out of you?"

Castiel puts his head back on the pillow as he replies, "I already told you. It was God."

"God is gone," Dean replies calmly. "If he was back, he would be doing something about all the shit that you caused."

Castiel had had the debate with the three of them a thousand times: he can't be held responsible for the actions he made while under the influence of the souls. This time, he doesn't answer. He just wants to sleep.

"Tell us Cas," Dean demands.

"It was God," Castiel repeats. "Sam, you can pour holy oil down my throat. You can stab my leg with that angel sword. But you won't get anything because I _am_ telling the truth."

He told Sam this because the youngest Winchester had opened his mouth to speak. But he closes his mouth when Castiel finishes his words. Instead, Bobby says, "We don't believe you."

Castiel looks at them all. He sits up and swings his legs over the edge of the cot so that he is sitting on the side, "I don't expect you to. I can only tell you that God works in—"

"If you say that 'God works in mysterious ways' then so help me, I will kick your ass," Dean snaps, cutting Cas off. Dean's words are meant to sound threatening, but all they do is surprise Cas. They surprise him because Dean said those exact words to him a little less than four years ago when they had just met.

Cas just stares at Dean with his classic thoughtful gaze. When Dean sees Cas' expression, he finds it surprising how much he missed that annoying, naïve gaze.

But neither of them know what the other is thinking.

So the three men once again leave the room, completely convinced that Cas' words are lies. Nobody in that safe house knows that God is watching them all intently.

He watches Robert Singer's thoughtful approach to the situation and Samuel Winchester's revulsion for the angel he once called his brother-in-arms.

He watches Dean Winchester's reluctant behavior toward the angel, even though Castiel slaughtered the lives of Lisa and Benjamin Braedan. However, Dean doesn't know that they weren't killed by the flood.

Castiel had them slaughtered by his own soldiers before the flood. This was to break Dean because if you broke Dean Winchester, you broke any chance the human race had of surviving.

What Castiel—with his power-addled brain—failed to take into account was that slaughtering them only an _hour_ before the flood was not long enough for the news to reach Dean. So, consequently, Castiel's plan was futile.

Nevertheless, it probably would've been better if Lisa and Ben had drowned. They died with terror in their eyes and a void in their hearts—a void because since the "car accident" they were in, they had felt something missing in their lives. An angel's power can only do so much when love is involved.

Of course, Castiel doesn't know any of this. In fact, his memory from his time as the "New God" is hazy to him. All Castiel really remembers is the rush of power and the intense physical pain of losing it all.

This is where God comes in.

Free will be damned, Castiel has to be redeemed. He cannot walk around believing that everything he did was only the evil of the souls. Castiel was still involved.

Of course, God didn't need to remind him of everything. Only the things that counted.

And slaughtering Lisa and Benjamin Braedon counts.

So God, watching his son as he nods off into sleep, entwines the memory within his dreams. He watches solemnly as the memory enters Castiel's mind as he falls into what would have been a peaceful slumber.


	9. Chapter 9

_I was watching Season 4 of Supernatural… Remember when Sam's psychic crap was the biggest problem? God, I miss those days. Just reminiscing. Please review!_

Castiel bolts upright, breathing rapidly. He feels his vessel's heart speeding beneath his chest, racing faster than the fastest marathon runner. He falls back into his cot. Against the warmth of the sheets, he can feel the sticky sweat on his skin. He closes his eyes and he can still see… can still _hear_… their terror.

He gets off the cot. He nervously paces around the cylindrical room, rubbing his hands on his face, trying to calm himself down. The dream with Balthazar had been one thing. But to see the faces of… Lisa and Ben…

He closes his eyes for only a moment and their faces flash through his mind. He opens his eyes, gasping in shock.

He tries to tell himself that it was the souls. It had to be.

But it wasn't. It wasn't, because… because he had agreed to the idea. He could've said no to their whispers of pain and power… but he didn't.

He lets out a ragged breath just as he hears a loud metallic sound. He looks to the door, expecting the magnificent trio to come swooping in once more to find an answer that they already have. But, instead, it is just one person standing there.

It's the person Cas is afraid to face the most—especially at this moment. "Cas," Dean says. He doesn't notice that Castiel is in the middle of a moment of crisis, "We need to talk."

"How can you speak to me?" Castiel asks in reply. His eyes are sad, the same way they were in the days before he took in all the souls. In the days when he was still trying to convince Dean and Sam and Bobby that what he was doing was right.

"What do you mean?" Dean asks. His voice is rough. Low.

"How can you speak to me after what I did to them?" Cas asks, his voice shaking at the scene burned into his brain. "After what I did to Ben and Lisa?"

Dean shakes his head, "I'm not here to talk about that."

Castiel just stares at him. He watches as his friend closes the door and walks over to the chair that Sam uses for his "torture platform".

"I'm here to speak to you about the souls," Dean explains. "I want you to know that—even though Sam would object—I think I might agree with you."

Castiel just stares at him in disbelief.

"It doesn't matter what you did," Dean says, smiling a little for the first in months. "You weren't you."

Castiel stares at his friend in surprise for a moment. Then his shoulders slump in sadness and he covers his face with his hands. He sighs, feeling the weight of his sins finally begin to pierce through the shield he had carefully forged to keep a planet from collapsing onto his shoulders. Of all the times for Dean to agree… "There's something I need to tell you." He looks up at Dean, who is staring at him patiently, "Something about Lisa and Ben."

Twenty minutes later, Castiel is slammed up against the wall. Dean clutches him by the neck so tight, his knuckles are turning white. "You son-of-a-bitch," Dean whispers. His voice mirrors an edge of pain and betrayal that Castiel only knows too well.

"You fucking bag of dicks."

"I'm…" Cas manages through Dean's vise-like grasp. "I'm sorr—" But Dean only tightens his hold.

"Don't even try to apologize," he hisses, his face twitching with rage. "You killed my family. You killed three-hundred-million innocent people. And it was all because of your stupid ego."

Castiel isn't sure which is worse: the too-tight grip on his throat or the absolute hate in Dean's eyes. Then, to Castiel's shock, Dean lets him go. He drops hard to the concrete ground and he coughs violently, gulping in the air that was strangled out of him.

He looks up at Dean, who stares down at the angel with the same amount of loathing. Even as Cas' breathing becomes easier, it is somehow harder too under _that _gaze. Then the eldest Winchester points at Castiel, "_You_ are the worst monster of them all." Then he turns and leaves the room, slamming the door loudly behind him.

Castiel stares forlornly towards the door as the lights shut off. He covers his face with his hands and behind his eyelids he sees the image of the featureless figure once more, only this time with clearly distinctive limbs and a head.

Cas opens his eyes. In some small part of his mind, he knows that that figure in his dreams is of some great importance. But, for now, it is only a small idea in his thoughts. Right now, he is thinking about his dreams and how they aren't going to get much better. He knows they are only going to get worse.

But, most of all, he is thinking about how much pain he caused Lisa and Ben. And Balthazar. And Sam and Bobby. And Dean.

And he knows Dean is right. He is a monster. The worst of them.

And that fact, suddenly so blatantly true, hurts him most of all.


	10. Chapter 10

_Sorry it took me so long to update! Please review!_

Castiel doesn't see anything but the inside of that room for the next two weeks. The darkness becomes his best friend and his worst enemy. His dreams become his only pastime, and if he had a person hell, this would probably be it.

Dean, Sam, and Bobby spend most of their time alone in the only carpeted room in the building. It is decorated similarly to Bobby's old place (When the three of them first came to this place, it was situated exactly like that. That showed that Eleanor Visyak's time with Bobby meant more to her than the old man thought. It is the only thing that brings a smile to his face these days.)

Dean sits in the farthest corner of the room, watching Bobby flip through another textbook, trying to find _some_ way of getting rid of this God forsaken flood. Sam is taking a nap since he hasn't slept for the past three nights.

When Bobby finishes off the last of the whiskey bottle being shared between the three of them, Dean stands up and walks over to the liquor cabinet that Visyak had stocked some twenty years ago (consequently, the liquor in that cabinet is aged and the best shit out there). He bends down and opens the cabinet to see nothing there. He lifts the false bottom up, but there isn't anything there either. "Where did you put the rest of the liquor?" Dean demands, his voice rough with impatience.

"Nowhere," Bobby replies, looking at Dean. "It's all in there."

"Well, there isn't anything left," Dean replies, his impatience dropping in his tone.

Bobby doesn't take offense to Dean's tone since his own emotions echoe the needs of his surrogate son. He asks, "You checked the false bottom?"

"Yes I checked the false bottom," Dean retorts, mocking Bobby's voice.

Bobby stands up and looks in the liquor cabinet. Nothing. It's completely empty.

They end up waking Sam and searching the entire premises for any sign of alcohol. Two hours later, they turn up empty-handed. They checked every inch of the place… except for the prison.

Dean groans internally at this. Sam can't go in there alone because he'll just deep fry Castiel with holy oil. So all three of them reluctantly make the trek down to the very bottom of the safe house. They open the door and turn on the bright light.

The sudden brightness shocks Castiel and he ends up falling off his cot. He lies their limp for a second, long enough for all three of the men to notice the Maker's Mark Whiskey bottle in his hand.

Cas stares at them, overjoyed for a moment that they finally came to see him, regardless if the reason is malicious or not.

All three of them are confused as to how exactly he's drunk on one bottle. Then Bobby walks to the other side of the cot to see a hundred empty bottles or so lying abandoned on the concrete floor.

"Last one," Castiel croaks.

All of them look at Castiel.

"You're welcome to have what's left of this," Cas says, holding up the bottle for one of them to take.

Sam just wants to punch Cas in the face. Bobby rolls his eyes and leaves the room. Sam follows suit, but not before looking back at his brother, "You coming, Dean?"

Dean doesn't answer at first. He's frozen in his place as he stares down at the drunken angel. The only time he has ever seen Cas drunk was when they were hunting the Whore of Babylon. At the time, if Dean looked past the humor of the entire situation, he could just see the deep lines underneath Castiel's eyes. He could see the brooding edge of his forehead and the tired look in his eyes, as if he were ready to give up.

Dean sees that now too. Cas looks exactly as he did then.

"Dean?" Sam calls again.

The eldest Winchester looks back at his brother as he replies, "In a minute."

He turns back, leaving Sam to stare at him for a moment. Then the youngest Winchester rolls his eyes and walks out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Cas, thinking that they all left, opens his eyes. He is shocked to see Dean there For a second, he inches away because he is afraid Dean will hurt him again.

Dean does step forward, but only to give Castiel his hand. Cas' angelic brain is slowed because of the alcohol and takes a bit to register what Dean wants. It's long enough for Dean's patience to run thin. He leans down and grabs Castiel's arm, putting it around his shoulder. He hoists the angel up and drops him back on the cot. Cas groans quietly as Dean pries the bottle from his fingers. He puts it on a high shelf before turning back to Cas.

"I'm sorry, Dean," Castiel says through his drunken stupor, "I truly am." Even if his judgment is cloudy, he knows there is a good chance Dean Winchester will punch him or use some other violent act against him.

But Dean just sighs as he replies, "It's not your fault, Cas. You weren't you."

Cas sighs at Dean's words, "You're wrong. It might have been the souls' ideas to make the choices I made, but I could've resisted. I didn't. I agreed to their… suggestions," Castiel replies, unsure of the last word. The words they whispered to him were more like promises than anything else.

Dean didn't assume any different of Castiel's reasons for his action. But he drowns out his anger because he knows the angel feels guilty. He knew it the moment he saw the bottle in Cas' hand. Dean is still pissed at the son-of-a-bitch. There's no doubt about that.

But he can't stay enraged when he knows that the man he once called brother has to drink away his guilt for his actions—even if that individual in question drowned millions of people and slaughtered Dean's family.

The thought doesn't anger Dean as much as it did over the past two weeks. It's a big reassurance that the original big cahoots is finally back in office. That gives Dean a little hope.

So to Cas' confession, he replies, "Just sleep, Cas."

The words are soothing to Castiel. When he doesn't hear the metallic squeal of the door, he knows Dean isn't going to leave. Soon enough, he drifts off to sleep with a little more piece in his drunken heart.


	11. Chapter 11

_R&R! Will be appreciated!_

Weeks pass. Castiel is never let out of his cell, even though Dean starts to consider freeing his… his friend.

Bobby slowly starts to lean that way as well. Emphasis on slowly. And though he may not show it, he is relieved Cas has lost the souls.

The person who is most set on keeping Cas locked up is, by default, Sam. To anyone on the outside, it would be strange to see how the Winchester brothers are now. It's like they've traded places.

But Sam has his reasons. Even if he shows hate and coldness on the outside, somewhere deep inside, he is glad Cas is back. In truth, his supposed loathing of Castiel has nothing to do with the flood or all the other terrible crap his brother-in-arms committed.

Bobby, with his built-in intuition, could sense something was wrong with Sam the moment Cas stepped into the room. Ten minutes before that, Sam was his usual sensitive, puppy-dog self. But the moment Cas walked into the room, his mood darkened and a glare flared in his eye. Dean was too preoccupied with dealing with Castiel to notice this change in his brother.

When Sam volunteered to torture Cas, Dean thought it was just because Sam wanted to save him the pain of torturing a being he somehow still considered a brother.

But only Dean is that selfless for family.

* * *

><p>About a month after Castiel got drunk, Dean and Bobby are sitting in that little room, listening to Sam rant to them about how much of a "sanctimonious, self-righteous prick" Castiel is. The angel hasn't spoken to any of them—even Dean—since he downed all the liquor storage. Throughout that entire time, Sam grew more and more impatient. He tells Dean and Bobby that Cas is acting like that because he hasn't told them a thing (of course, he's told them everything).<p>

In reality, however, Sam is aggravated because Bobby and Dean are not angry with Cas the way they—specifically Dean—were with Sam when he kick-started the apocalypse.

In Sam's rant, right around the time he _once again __mentions _Lisa and Ben, Dean storms out of the room. He slams the mahoganey door behind him. Sam watches the door in disbelief. Is he the only one who sees this situation rationally?

"This is ridiculous," he mutters furiously.

"No, you're ridiculous!" Bobby snaps.

Sam, his face still in disbelief, looks at Bobby, "What?"

"I know why you're like this, Sam," Bobby replies, his arms still crossed against his chest, "You're not pissed at Cas."

"Oh! So now you're calling him _that_ name? Like he's suddenly family again?" Sam demands.

"I never said that," Bobby replies. "You, on the other hand, have confirmed everything."

"Everything?" Sam asks, feigning confusion.

Bobby walks over to his surrogate son, his face softening with pity, "I know why you've been so angry lately and it ain't because the continent was drowned."

Sam is quiet.

"Admit it, Sam," Bobby says, pointing his finger at the youngest Winchester. "You're not pissed at Cas. You're not even _angry_."

Sam remains silent.

"You're just taking all that guilt you have inside you and shoving it all onto Cas," Bobby says, mirroring Sam's true intentions. "You're taking the chance to hide your sins behind Castiel's."

Sam is still quiet, but this time it's in shock.

"I love you, Sam, but you're a dick for doing what you're doing," Bobby scolds.

"I don't have to listen to this," Sam retorts with false anger. He starts for the door in disguised disbelief. In reality, he just wants to get out before Bobby corners him with the truth.

"You can run all you want, Sam," Bobby says from behind him. "But we all know that in the past, lying to us has only hurt you."

Sam turns back to Bobby.

"We forgave you, son," Bobby says, sensing Sam's hesitation. "We forgave you a long time ago."

Sam stares at Bobby.

"You just haven't forgiven yourself," Bobby says.

Sam forces rolling his eyes, hoping he can keep up the act. He turns and reaches for the door.

"I'm not holding what you're doing against you, Sam!" Bobby calls after him.

Sam's hand freezes on the doorknob.

Bobby takes the opportunity to continue, "God knows, I've done it. But boy, you are doing it in all the wrong ways."

Sam can't control himself. He turns back to the old hunter as he retorts, "Let's say that all the crap you're saying is true. Why, then, is it bad to turn on the son-of-a-bitch who drowned the continent?"

"Because this isn't Ruby or Zachariah or Lucifer," Bobby explains, "It's Cas. And he's not hopped up on souls anymore, Sam. You can't hold it against him. _You_, of all people, should know that."

Sam shakes his head, but this time, Bobby can see the doubt plastered clearly on his face. The youngestWinchesterturns away and opens the door, trying his best to hide the fact that Bobby is spot on with every word.

* * *

><p>Another nightmare. Most of the time they are just of the flood. Castiel watches from a different person's point-of-view each time. But none of them are nearly as upsetting as the death of the Braeden's was.<p>

By the time two-and-a-half months are out, the "featureless figure" has a lot of features. By now, Cas can tell the figure is male, fit, and Caucasian. When Castiel wakes this time, he remembers that the figure was wearing clothes. Ripped, blue denim jeans, an old, gray shirt stained with oil, and a pair of black hiking boots.

Castiel has managed to drown out most of the guilt by focusing on the significance of that figure. He stills doesn't know what it means, but he intends to find out. He closes his eyes…

* * *

><p>"Castiel," a voice calls.<p>

Castiel looks around himself. It isn't dark. It's… gray. "This is my soul, now?" Castiel asks.

"Yes, my son," God replies.

"I'm healing?" Castiel asks. "But I haven't done anything to redeem myself."

"Redemption is only half the ride, Castiel," God explains. "First, you have to feel your guilt."

"But I have been. What else could I have been doing with all these dreams?" Castiel asks, starting to understand the frustration the humans feel with God's complex words.

"You have been seeing what you've done Castiel. But you haven't felt the true regret. Not the kind that comes with the things you did," God replies.

"And what am I supposed to do when that comes?" Castiel demands. "I can turn to my own family. They don't trust me."

God wants to ask which "family" Castiel is referring to, but he is God. He knows where Castiel's true loyalty lies. God replies, "I told you before. If you need help, pray to me."

Cas looks up is disbelief. "How do you expect me to pray to you? Especially when you were _really_ needed, you abandoned us all?" Cas demands, throwing his arms up in the air.

God doesn't answer the question. He just says, "When you finally feel the true guilt, Castiel, that's when the purpose of your dream figure will finally come to light."

"You planted that in my dream?" Castiel asks, surprised.

"No," God replies. "That is your subconscious, my son."

"What about the dreams?" Castiel demands.

God's real answer is that he cares very much about Castiel and he doesn't want his son falling down the path of evil anymore than he already has. And yes, he is interfering with Castiel's free will. But that's only because he doesn't want another son to be torn away from him by the clutches of pride and envy. Never again.

But God can't say that. So he says, "They bring more good than harm."

Castiel doesn't answer.

"Goodbye for now, my son. Keep strong in the weeks ahead. And remember: I am here for you," God says. Then he vanishes.

Castiel watches the gray constrict him in a tight fog. But this time, he closes his eyes and relaxes.

* * *

><p>He opens his eyes, his father's words ringing in his ears. And even though he has no reason to, he allows himself to hope that God is really listening.<p> 


	12. Chapter 12

_I'm sorry if there are any grammatical errors, but I have had this chapter for so long that I just want to upload it. Sorry for the wait! Enjoy! Please review!_

Castiel watches Dean. He watches his best friend walk toward the demon with a syringe filled with something that would make hell look like a spa.

Castiel notices the break in the devil's trap at the same time as the demon does. It isn't until after the demon has Dean by the throat that Castiel finally steps in and incinerates the demon in its own meat suit. Dean and Cas both watch the meat suit fall to the ground before they look at each other.

Dean stares in shock for a second as he catches his breath. He takes a few moments, letting his gasping mellow down before he finally chokes out, "I didn't ask for your help."

Castiel isn't angry at the response. He just looks away for a second before replying, "Well, regardless, you're welcome."

Dean ignores Castiel's reply, brushing it off as if it is just dust in the wind. He walks by Castiel as he asks coarsely, "Why are you here?"

As Dean walks back to the devil's trap, Castiel replies with all the honesty in the world, "I had no idea Crowley would take Lisa and Ben."

"Yeah right," Dean retorts, picking up one of the snapped restraints from the ground.

Castiel turns to Dean, "You don't believe me."

"I don't believe a word that's coming out of your mouth," Dean replies with a humorless smirk.

Castiel looks away for a second. Dean waits for him to speak. When he looks back at Dean, his eyes are firm, "I thought you said that we were like family." Dean doesn't answer, but Castiel can tell that when he said that Cas is like a brother, he meant it. "Well I think that too. Shouldn't trust run both ways?"

"Cas, I just can't," Dean replies honestly.

"Dean," Castiel starts again, walking up to Dean, "I do everything that you ask. I always come when you cal_l_"—Dean wouldn't notice it, but Castiel's voice broke a little bit at the end—"and I am your friend. Still. Despite your lack of faith in me and now your threats." Castiel—in his entire life—has never cried. But in those words, he swore he could feel his strong resolve crack a little. "I just saved you. Yet again. Has anything but your closest kin ever done more for you?" Castiel asks, not needing an answer.

Dean doesn't answer, but Castiel doesn't need him too. He knows Dean knows that Cas is right.

"All I ask is this one thing," Castiel finishes.

"Trust your plan to pop purgatory?" Dean asks, his eyes mirroring his doubt in the plan… in Cas…

"I've earned that Dean," Cas replies. There is silence. Then Castiel looks away as he says, "I came to tell you that I will find Lisa and Ben and I will bring them back."

Dean looks up at him, hope flashing in his eyes for a second.

"Stand behind me the _one_ time I ask," Castiel finally says. That's all he's asking for: Dean's support.

The hope in Dean's eyes vanished within a blink. All that is left in disbelief that swiftly hardens into anger, "Your asking me to stand down?"

"Dean—" Castiel starts, trying to get back what little trust they had between them just moments ago.

"That's the same damn ransom note that Crowley handed me. You know that, right?" Dean demands, his voice rough with fury.

Castiel can't answer.

"Well no thanks. I'll find them myself," Dean replies. He starts to walk away when he turns back and snaps, "In fact, why don't you go back to Crowley and tell him that I said you can both kiss my ass." The glare in Dean's eyes are overwhelming. Pure resentment that Cas had only seen when he was dealing with the enemy.

But that's what Castiel is now, isn't he? He's the enemy of the Winchester's.

Dean turns away and walks back to the chair in the center of the devil's trap.

Cas stares at him for a second. Then, when he feels the very human tears start to brim his eyes, he vanishes with a _whoosh _of his wings.

All his allies (except for Crowley who can read Cas like a book) and enemies all think that this is easy for Castiel: working with a demon to open purgatory and take the souls to defeat the last archangel.

But it's not. It's torturous.

He arrives at the Novak house and leans against the back wall. He pinches the bridge of his nose as he lets out a shaky sigh. He closes his eyes and the tears start to fall as he realizes—even though he will keep trying—that his relationship with the Winchesters is over.

* * *

><p>Cas' eyes snap open. The memory is fresh in his mind, but instead of just a nagging guilt, he feels something that could very well be consuming him.<p>

He sits up and blinks, trying to rid himself of the memory.

But it won't leave him. Dean's words ring clear in his mind.

Cas stands up and runs his hands through his hair and though no one can see it in the darkness, tears are filling his eyes. He grits his teeth, trying not to break down. It's a common rule among human men not to cry—it shows weakness.

And whether Cas likes it or not—ever since he met the Winchesters—he has tried to be nothing but human.

Yet, Cas knows that that rule doesn't apply sometimes. He knows and when he lets out the huge, wet sob he had been holding in, it shakes his entire body. He falls to his knees as another sob escapes his mouth. Sob after sob after sob after sob after sob bursts out of him and the bitter tears he sheds sting his eyes and stain his skin.

His body convulses in ways only possible for an angel. And with the onslaught of broken sobs comes the unrelenting flicker of every single light in the safe house.

* * *

><p>Bobby looks up from his book when the light in the study flickers more than a few times. Dean and Sam look up as well and they all share a look before realizing that it's Cas.<p>

They hastily exit the room. For all they know, Cas could be trying to escape.

They sprint all the way to the prison. Dean is the one to open the door first. He reaches quickly for the switch and turns it on, filling the room with extremely bright lights.

And on the floor is Cas.

He is on his knees, facing the side of the room. The glistening tears pouring down his face shock even Sam. Dean hear the sound of cat choking coming from Cas and he realizes that the angel is sobbing.

Castiel, too afraid to look at the three men, brings his hand over his mouth to stop the sobbing. But, even if he can silence them, they don't stop. His body shakes uncontrollably with silent sobs and he collapses to his hands as the… _feeling _inside of him… it rips him apart. He feels like he is going to be sucked down a gaping black hole, but when it doesn't happen, he sobs harder because he wishes for the relief of being sucked into that hole will bring him.

His tears continue to pour down his face, leaving small puddles on the ground.

And he closes his eyes, knowing that the only thing the three human men could feel when they see him is disgust.

Dean knows he should feel that. He watches the usually stone-cold angel and he _knows _he should feet pure loathing.

But he can't. Even as his brother's voice in his head screams to, he just _can't_.

Instead, he feels protectiveness. He feels like he did with Sammy when they were kids. All those times his kid brother would cry…

Dean crosses the floor quickly and stands in front of Castiel. The angel doesn't really notice Dean there; he's too caught up in his pain to notice.

Dean reaches down and pulls the angel back up to his knees. Castiel is confused for a moment, thinking that the eldest Winchester is going to punch him.

But he only feels his wet face press into old, worn plaid. Strong arms rap around Cas, pulling him closer. The angel stiffens for a second, not sure what to do.

But when Dean does nothing more but hug him, he relaxes. He leans into the hunter, breathing in the scent of musky plaid and three days worth of sweat—and he has never felt more at home. Cas reaches his hand around Dean, holding onto the back of his shirt for security, and lets out a shaky sigh. The sobs and tears continue to come, but not as rapidly.

And Dean never lets go because he knows that as it was with Sammy, his embrace can calm down Castiel easily—maybe even more so.

Bobby looks down at the floor, away from Dean and Cas. Partially to give them privacy; mostly to silently settle in his heart that once again, it's time to follow Dean's lead—this time, it's to forgive.

Sam, however, looks on with glaring resentment, flanked with jealousy. No one would know, though, that under all that hate is a little empathy for the angel (after all, he's been there himself).

And God looks down on them and smiles, for the plans he has for his son have finally started to unfold.

But also for the Winchesters, for they have once again passed one of his tests with flying colors.


	13. Chapter 13

_Yes, I realize it is in past-tense. It just seems to fit this chapter better. And there may be some grammatical errors as it is two in the morning and I am not in the mood to edit. Sorry I took so long to update. Laziness and a lack of ideas plus the feeling that my writing sucked caused me to procrastinate. So, here's the new chapter! Enjoy._

The way it happened was like water down a drain.

Darkness had become the Winchesters' constant companion over the past few months; they kept the drapes closed and never went outside. The usually golden-brown Sam was actually nearing Dean skin shade.

Then the most dramatic thing in months happened.

A ray of sunlight burst through the curtains. It touched Bobby's face and the distantly familiar warmth shocked him awake. He opened his eyes to the light blinding him. He covered his face for a minute before realizing the source of the light. He shook the Winchester brother awake and after he pulled the curtains aside, all three of the men stared out at the bright sun, letting it warm their faces in far too long.

They hesitantly walked out of their safe house, out onto the roof where they took Cas to see the damage he inflicted on the world. They came very close to the edge, knowing that if they stepped off, they would only fall into water—or so they thought.

When Bobby looked down, he almost fell off the top of the mountain in shock. Dean luckily managed to pull him back. The brothers carefully looked over the edge and what they saw astonished them—the water had sunken a good three-thousand feet. Maybe even more.

It shocked all of them. Not even Bobby could understand what was happening.

The same rays of sun woke Castiel. He opened his eyes and smiled for the first time since his… purification. He smiled because _he _knew what was happening.

God is _finally _saving the world.


	14. Chapter 14

Castiel had told them willingly that God was back. This time, they believed him.

So, for the first time in a long time, Dean Winchester prayed. He had prayed before, but they had been less-than-half-hearted prayers because he was only calling Castiel to help them on some mission.

This time, when Dean Winchester prays, he prays with his soul. He prays with his hands clasped tight against each other and his head bowed as he begs the God he knows is there to save Lisa and Ben. He prays for their lives to be returned; if that can't happen, Dean prays for their souls to be kept in Heaven forever.

He hasn't prayed this hard since he almost gave into being Michael's vessel.

Dean thinks he is alone. He doesn't know that his brother watches him from the dark hall outside the room. The sun floods Dean's room, blessing Sam's older brother with a light he hadn't seen in a very long time.

Yet Sam found himself noting the irony of their stances. While Dean willingly walks out into the light of day, his younger brother remains holed up in the dark, just like it has been for most of their lives. Sam won't admit it, but he still feels that way. Even as hope is literally SHINING for the first time in their lives, he feels like he can't step into the light that God has blessed the world with.

Sam watches his brother, but when he hears a voice, he doesn't jump, "You're not going to get anywhere, Sam."

Sam doesn't have to look to know that Jessica is talking to him.

"You can stare at Dean all you want, but you aren't going to get what he has," she says.

Sam looks now. He looks at the flawless vision of the woman he will never stop loving.

"You are always going to be stuck in the dark," she says.

He turns completely towards her. "So, what? God felt guilty for shoving you in hell?" he asks softly so his brother can't hear.

Jess cocks her head to the side in a very Castiel-ish fashion , "What are you talking about?"

He shows a bitter smirk as he rolls his eyes, "I know you're Lucifer, you fucking moron. You've already played that game; I'm not going to fall for it again."

She stares at him for a few seconds before her eyes light up in a passionate fury. The anger on her face surprises him and for a moment, he thinks it's her. Just when he's about to remind himself that she is the devil, she steps up to him and puts her hands on his face.

There is a flash of light and the next thing he knows, he is surrounded by a soft, misty, shapeless white space with nothing but a perfect image of his dead girlfriend standing in front of him. Her face is as fiery as it was when they were in the hall. "Who are you?" he demands.

She still stares at him, her fury now cooling into determination. Before he can even register this, though, she has thrown herself into him, smacking her lips hard against his. At first, he tries to push her away, but in only a few seconds, he finds himself melting into her. Her lips are as soft to him as they were when she was alive. She moves against him that has his own body becoming supple in her touch, just like when they were together.

And he can feel her undertone of fight in her kiss; he can feel the same need for her to win in the battle of dominance that they had basically built their relationship on. They are both powerful people and when they fell in love, it was like two lions finding each other. Their love was instinctual, primitive—borderline animalistic.

He hadn't felt that instinctual fire with any girl he had encountered since her.

And now he finds himself losing that constant battle of dominance, because it was _her_. It was really _his _Jess kissing him and this realization made him weaker than he had ever felt.

And just when he is sure he would never let her go again, she pulls away. He stares at her in disbelief and she can't help but smile.

He lets out a heavy breath as he whispers, "Jess."

She smiles even brighter and leans into his ear and whispers, "Hi, baby."

He lets out a shaky breath before pulling her into a tight embrace. He leans into her, pressing his face into her shoulder, her hair. She returns the hug tightly and just her breath on his neck is enough to make him want to stay like that forever.

Then she pulls away again and he can feel his face go red with frustration. "You have to got to stop teasing me like this," he says intensely. But his heart feels lighter than… well than since she died.

"I'm sorry," she replies honestly, "But I don't have much time."

"What do you—?"

She puts her finger over his lips, "Don't talk. Just listen."

He stays silent.

"I am here to tell you that you are not going to get what your brother has," she says hurriedly.

"That's… thanks?" Sam asks, surprised by her lack of faith in him.

She rolls her eyes before continuing, "You are not going to get what your brother has if you keep standing their in the dark. You have to walk into the light."

He stares at her, unsure of her point.

She points to his chest and says, "You have to forgive yourself, big guy."

His shoulders slump instinctively. He stares at Jess in disappointment.

"What?" she asks, confused by his reaction.

He turns away, "That's something I can't do."

"Why?" she asks.

He doesn't answer.

She stares at him for a second before rolling her eyes and pulling him back around, She sees the way he is looking down, like a little boy caught drawing on the walls. She lets out a sigh, "I don't have time for this, Sam. I've heard how you have spent the past few in a heap of self-pity and I am here to tell you that you are being ridiculous."

He looks up at her in disbelief, "Ridiculous? You call carrying guilt over causing the apocalypse, killing innocent people for their blood and having to deal with memories from the _cage_ ridiculous?" he demands.

"Yes!" she shouts, "I do!"

"How—how can you—how can you even—?"

"Because your brother has forgiven himself," she retorts, "At least enough to open his heart to The Big Kahoona. He even forgave Castiel!"

He looks at her.

"What?" she demands.

"Is that what you want from me?" he demands, "You want me to forgive Cas."

"No!" she retorts, "I want you to have peace. I want you to get over yourself."

"What do you know? You haven't seen what I've been through!" he shouts before turning away from her, walking away.

"I don't know where you plan on going. This place has no distance," she calls after him.

He whips back around, "What would you have me do?" he demands, "What could I possibly do, Jess?"

"You can forgive yourself, Sam," she replies softly, walking up to him. She looks up into his face, determined green meeting uncertain brown, "_He _wants you to forgive yourself." She points up, indicating God.

He looks up at endless, shapeless white.

"It's a new world, Sam," Jess says fiercely. He looks down at her, "It's a new world and God wants you to be a part of it."

Sam is silent. He is too shocked to speak.

She points her finger at him, "I am not a Jesus Freak. I am not a freaking priest. I am here because _He _wants you to be happy, Sam."

Still shocked to silence, Sam stares at Jess. Then, suddenly, she kisses him hard on the lips once more. But it's must shorter and she pulls away before he even has the chance to kiss back. Then she whispers in his ear, "In the end, I'll be waiting, Sam."

Sam closes his eyes. When he opens them, he is back in the hall outside the room where his brother is praying. He turns to see Dean in the exact same position—on his knees—with the sunlight shining the same as it was when Sam left.

Sam stands on the threshold, one leg in the dark hall, the other in the bright room flooded with light. He stares into the room, Jess' words ringing in his mind. When his mind finally sorts through the pleasant fuzziness that the presence of the real Jess caused him, he finds himself stuck with a choice.

The choice could be called a million things; Misery vs. Peace; Dark vs. Light; Guilt vs. Forgiveness. Whatever it can be called, he knows that the only way to make it is to either back into the dark hall or step into the sun-filled room.

He stands their, stuck in his spot, unsure of his spot.

When he feels the warmth of the sun on his face, he doesn't move. But he does close his eyes, enjoying the light after months of noting but darkness.


End file.
